


American in Europe

by Limes_Parton



Series: Graves and Bones [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Credence Barebone Deserves Better, Credence Barebone Gets a Hug, Credence Barebone Heals, Credence Barebone Learning Magic, Credence Barebone Needs a Hug, M/M, Original Percival Graves is a Softie, Protective Credence Barebone, Protective Original Percival Graves, Romance, Sex, Sexy Times, Shyness, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:01:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29808108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Limes_Parton/pseuds/Limes_Parton
Summary: The sequel to "Irishman in New York"Set half a year after Irishman in New York.Grindelwald just wants peace, by killing all the muggels. War ensues. Credence is learning magic while Percival is already in Europe, in the midst of the war. Credence doesn't like Percivals absence.
Relationships: Credence Barebone/Original Percival Graves
Series: Graves and Bones [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2190882





	American in Europe

**Author's Note:**

> As described in the comment section to the first installment of this series, my best friend solved one riddle, and wished for:
> 
> Part 2 of this story. Percival doesn't want to acknowledge his feelings, Credence gains confidence but doesn't loose all of his shyness and wants the D. Everything is overflowing with love and affection. Gradence for the soul. Credence should be of age. 
> 
> So, here it is, just in time for her birthday. Happy Birthday H! I hope you like it :) 
> 
> This story doesn't contain any riddles, but there are still enough riddles left in the first one to win a 5k word fanfic :)

Credence had given up his flat and moved into Percival Graves home. He loved it, in the beginning. It smelled like Percival, small touches of Percival everywhere throughout the house. From the pictures on the wall to the cutlery. Everything was elegant, if understated. Simple, practical, but exquisite, like the man himself. The only exception being the paintings, the frames being baroque gold frames, framing light, romantic landscapes with colourful flowers and in one or two paintings, with happy, maybe contemplative persons strolling through said landscapes.  
Percival was meticulous. His cravats were carefully folded in one drawer, his socks (black, charcoal and grey) were in one drawer, but separated by partitions into their colours.  
Now, Credence had slipped in between all of Percival, filled in the cracks, and Percival’s scent was gone. The cologne stood unused on the vanity, next to the now closed box of cufflinks.  
He swung his legs out of bed. Credence wanted to help, he needed to learn, and fast. He needed to become better because he wanted to follow Percival. He would follow Percival everywhere. The man had managed to cast a reparo on Credence’ soul, and the magic had slowly pieced together his heart, his self, the wizard he was supposed to become in the first place, without Obscurial, Mary Lou and Grindelwald, even more so, because of the opposition he had faced.  
Credence emptied the waterglass on the bedside table, the first part in his daily ritual. He flicked his hand and stood up. The glass cleaned itself and turned, sitting clean and dry upside down on the nightstand.  
Other wizards would be amazed by Credence display of a wand- and wordless household charm, but for Credence, it wasn’t even warmup. He felt a big void where the Obscurial had been and with every flex of his magical muscles, his own magic started to fill the space again. The only difference being, that it wasn’t angry black goo, but molasses in every shade of colour amber came in, mixed together.  
He held out his arms, the buttons plopping out of buttonholes with a simple thought directed at his magic. The pyjama top slowly sailed through the air, folding itself and landing on the bed that straightened itself out.  
He pushed his pyjama pants down his hips and let them drop to the floor, simply stepping out of them. Since Tina had started her “discard everything Mary Lou Barebone ever did or said”-campaign, Credence did at least one thing a day she would have whipped him for. Leaving something lying around on the floor would have been one of those.  
His magic picked the pants up and folded them like the shirt, but Credence had left them on the ground without physically picking them up. That he rectified the situation by letting his magic take care of it would have had her foaming at the mouth. Which was the point of this exercise.  
Credence allowed himself a smile. He had laid out his clothes for the day the previous night and started putting these on now. First underwear and socks, then shirt and slacks. The shirt buttoned itself while he pulled his slacks up.  
Queenie had taken him to a tailor and had him fitted with a new wardrobe. Things which actually fit in, where he didn’t have to hunch or move carefully, to avoid ripping the seams. Fully clothed except for shoes, he made his way out of the guestroom, now his room, downstairs into the kitchen.  
The coffee ground itself in the grinder. A wave of his hand and the kettle filled with water on his way to the stove.  
Credence managed to let the cutting board, knife and loaf all come together on the counter without hitting anything on their way there, but the knife wobbled and sliced an uneven slice of bread. He stilled lacked the magical control to cut of even slices.  
Nevertheless, Credence managed to assemble a nice breakfast for himself in record time.  
He loved magic. He hadn't noticed before, but now that his magic had returned to him, he knew what it felt like to be whole. He had never been whole as far as he could remember. Something had always been missing, and he thought that it was the love and support off a family. And that was something he had missed, but magic is a huge part of him that, for the longest time, he didn't have access to.  
Now that his magic and he himself are re-united, they are both eager to start a completely new life. But he is itching. He ponders the itch while munching the toasted bread. He doesn't know what he is still missing, he just knows that something is. The absence is …  
Credence doesn't know what it is.  
There is a thought though, in the deepest darkest recesses of his mind, that his conscience doesn't allow him to even approach.  
Last night, when he was lying in his bed, in the dark and quiet protective bubble of his blankets, he had admitted to himself that there was a chance that the thought he didn't want to touch was correct.  
That thought is so powerful that it brings his magic to the surface. If he even so much as looks in the direction of said thought, his magic roils, crashing against a confines of his will, trying to get free.  
The toast tastes like Cardboard in his mouth. He has discarded many of the things Mary Lou used to preach. But there is one thought he can't rid himself off. It is the firm believe that men don't and can't love other men.  
It isn't so much a belief as it is a fact of life, one of those things you just know. But the thought he doesn't touch? That thought is nearly as powerful. It is the culmination of every gesture, every smile, every quirk, and every single act of kindness Percival has shown him. Credence thinks, that it is entirely too easy to love Percival Graves. the Thought he shies away from, is, that he loves Percival. 

Credence doesn't finish his bread, something else Mary Lou would have whipped him for, let's his magic take care of the dishes, laces his shoes and skips down the stairs to his home. 

The air is fresh, the sun is out, birds are chirping, and the dastardly war taking his Percival away is on another continent.  
There is nothing not to like about this day. He doesn’t skip or anything, but he smiles to himself as he wanders down the streets, along the familiar path to the Woolworth building. He smiles at the people at the reception and one elf smiles and another one even waves back.  
Credence meets up with Queenie in one of the auror training rooms for today's lessons. They great with a half hug and a kiss on the cheek. Queenie took up some European habits since she and Tina hosted Newt, but Credence doesn’t mind, he craves such open affection.  
They start his lesson for today with Tina going over the theory of transformation again and showing him how to twist his wand just right to get those fine carvings on the wooden jewellery chest he is supposed to get by transforming an apple. So far, he managed to transform the apple into wood, because his control isn’t honed on delicate, small details. He is best with wide spells, affecting a lot of surface or people.  
He cast a spell a few weeks back which seemed to have no effect till an irate Auror stormed into the room and declared that Credence turned the Hair of everyone in the department above them turquoise. He had enchanted the whole room the same colour not five minutes later.  
But for now, his magic is over-eager to complete his will and rushes out like a flood instead of a controlled little stream.  
They practice three hours with pauses in between and the apple is not only wooden, but square-ish and patterned in a beautiful baroque floral design. But it still has a small stem sticking out of it and is clearly recognisable as an apple.  
He thanks Queenie and goes to his job, filing papers. He likes his job, probably more than anyone else who works there, because he didn’t have any control and now, he is the one bringing order to the chaos. He was upgraded to an entry clerk not one month ago, meaning he has to enter the numbers from all receipts to the relevant department ledgers.  
It helped his confidence a lot to be promoted, because he managed it on his own merits and the up in payment means he isn’t living on Percival’s dime as much. 

Credence grabbed a Pizza on the way home, happier than ever that he was free of the person that had control over his early life.  
There was just one thing, or rather, one person, missing to make Credence perfectly happy.


End file.
